


Almost There

by hamilsinning



Series: Family [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Thomas drives in this family, Wetting, aaron doesn't listen, car journeys, non-sexual!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamilsinning/pseuds/hamilsinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’re almost there,” promises James, but he winces when he looks back at Aaron.<br/>“Please hurry,” urges the twelve-year-old; if desperation isn’t evident in his eyes, it is in his hands, which may as well be glued to his crotch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost There

Aaron leans against the counter as James lists their order to the cashier. “I love McDonald’s,” he says enthusiastically, just in case James has forgotten since the last time he told him, which was five minutes ago when they joined the line.

James laughs fondly. They are on their way back from New York after spending a week with George and his son Alex. They’ve been in the car for a good two hours, and they’ve stopped at the service station for a bite to eat.

“Chicken nugget meal with Diet Coke, Big Mac and coffee—”

“That’s us,” says James, taking the bags from the cashier. Aaron follows excitedly after him and, seeing Thomas sat in the dining area, waves.

“Alright,” says James as he puts the bags on the table, and Aaron sits down, grinning, “the chicken nuggets and the Diet is yours ...” Aaron quickly grabs the nuggets and fries, opening the box enthusiastically. He hasn’t had a McDonald’s in  _ages_.

He also hasn’t had a drink since he left Uncle George’s, so he’s pretty thirsty and the Coke’s gone by the time he’s eaten the nuggets.

“Aaron,” says Thomas as he’s clearing up the empty boxes, “d’you want to go pee before we set off again?”

Aaron flushes at the bluntness of Thomas’s question. “No, I’m fine,” he says quickly.

“I’ll go and buy us something for the rest of the journey home,” says James, sensing a disagreement coming. He disappears towards the store.

“Aaron, we’re going to be on the road for over three hours,” says Thomas gently. He is not trying to make his son feel embarrassed. “I want to get home as soon as possible, and I’d prefer it if we didn’t make lots of stops. I know you’re old enough to know when you have to go … believe me, I know. I just don’t want to make our journey longer by stopping.”

“I won’t have to go,” argues Aaron. He’s pretty sure he can go three hours without having to pee.

“Fine,” says Thomas in defeat.

James returns with three bottles of water and a share bag of chips. “Are we ready to go?” he asks, trying to ignore the tenseness between the two.

“Yeah,” says Aaron quickly. “Remember it’s Papa’s turn to pick the music this time.” He slips his hand into Thomas’s and the three make their way back to the car. James gives Aaron his water and the chips, and settles into the passenger seat.

“What’re we putting on?” asks the twelve-year-old excitedly. He leans forward, pressing his chin against the seat.

“It’s a surprise,” says James, pushing a CD into the slot. Aaron sighs and bounces back against his own seat. He folds his arms.

Starship plays quietly in the car. James turns up the volume slightly, watching Thomas change gears.

Aaron leans his head against the window. For half an hour he is quiet, drinking some of his water every so often. He winces quietly as he adjusts himself so that he is sat comfortably. Suddenly Aaron regrets not going to pee at the service station. His bladder feels pretty full right now.

He bites his lip and says nothing. Dad’d be annoyed if he said something now, since they’ve only been on the road for half an hour. He can wait a while, anyway. He isn’t a little kid.

He shifts about, crossing his legs as a precaution. Maybe in half an hour he can say something.

“Aaron, buddy?” says Thomas. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I’m bored.”

“I’m thinking about staying somewhere overnight,” says Thomas. “There’s a motel just as we come into Virginia.”

 “How far away’s that?” asks Aaron.

“About two hours,” answers Thomas. “Why, is there a problem?”

“No,” says Aaron, far too quickly. “There’s no problem.”

James has fallen asleep against the window and Thomas has changed the radio station with one hand. Aaron silently thinks about home and New York in an attempt to distract himself from his bladder. Unconsciously a hand snakes down to hold himself, wincing as he realises that Thomas was right after all.

Although only fifteen minutes has passed, to Aaron it feels like hours. “Where are we?” he asks loudly, shifting in his seat.

“We’re still two hours away,” says Thomas. “I told you to take your DS out of the suitcase before we left … you wouldn’t be so bored now …”

Aaron groans. He wants to come right out and say it, but to do so would be to admit that his dad was right. He shifts again, trying to make himself more comfortable. He doesn’t wanna sit in a position that would make his situation worse.

Another fifteen minutes pass. The words are on Aaron’s tongue, and he really wants to admit defeat and tell his dad he has to pee. But he also remembers that his dad didn’t want to keep stopping … maybe he’d be annoyed that Aaron wanted them to stop again. He keeps quiet.

James wakes up then, and cries indignantly at Thomas for changing the radio. He jabs at the buttons until the CD plays Starship again. Both men are oblivious to Aaron’s predicament. They cannot read his mind, after all. 

Aaron finds himself drifting off to sleep, and despite several furious blinks, he cannot fight the pull and is asleep within minutes.

He wakes up to the evening’s sun shining in his eyes. The pleasantries do not last long, however. He lets out an audible gasp as he feels his bladder spurt, and without a second thought he grabs himself.

“Dad I have to pee,” he blurts out. His face is red with embarrassment. He’s twelve years old and he’s holding himself like a little kid.

“Okay, buddy,” says Thomas, still focused on the road. “There’s a service station ten miles off … or do you want me to pull over here?”

“I’m not a  _baby_ ,” he protests. “I can wait till then.”

Maybe he’s lying a little bit, because it doesn’t feel like it right now. He squirms,  whimpering as he feels a little more pee escape. This is not good.

“Are we nearly there yet?” he asks, because it’s a much better question than  _can we hurry up or I’m gonna wet my pants_.

“We’re almost there,” promises James, but he winces when he looks back at Aaron.

“Please hurry,” urges the twelve-year-old; if desperation isn’t evident in his eyes, it is in his hands, which may as well be glued to his crotch.

“Shit,” hisses Thomas, and Aaron’s eyebrows shoot up in alarm. Thomas  _never_ swears, and for an instant he’s reminded of the way things were before he came here.

Aaron whimpers loudly.

“Roadworks,” explains Thomas in a much calmer voice. “There’s a huge queue.”

Aaron wants to cry. “I have to pee,” he whines, sounding far younger than he actually is.

“I know,” he says. “There’s nothing I can do about this queue, though.”

They sit in silence, Aaron whimpering every so often. Even in fifteen minutes they only move a few inches.

“We’re not going anywhere,” he whines. Tears well up in his eyes and he has to force himself to blink them away. He’s not gonna cry over this. It’s not the worst thing ever.

But his bladder spurts again and his underwear feels all damp and yucky and when he looks, there’s a little damp patch on his jeans. 

It’s getting darker outside, and Thomas has turned on the headlights. It’s getting pretty hard to see anything but other cars and the traffic lights in the distance. 

Aaron squirms again. He can hardly sit still anymore.

It happens without warning. A little pee trickles into his underpants and then suddenly it’s a spurt, wetting his pants and the car seat. Aaron tries to tighten his hold on himself, but he only manages to pee on his hand. Although it’s dark, the sound of pee dripping onto the mat is clearly audible and Aaron’s face burns in shame.

It feels like it goes on forever. His jeans are soaking by the time his stream slows and stops, and tears well up in his eyes. The traffic light in the distance turns green and the cars in front go a lot quicker.

Thomas and James can hear their son crying quietly in the back of the car, and Thomas does not hesitate to turn up the road and towards the service station. He parks as close to the building as he can, and takes out a pair of underpants and jeans for Aaron.

“Come on,” he says gently, and James is there too, with his great black coat.

“Here,” he says, “wear this.”

Tearfully, Aaron accepts the coat and clothes and the three walk into the building. The restrooms are on the left, and Aaron quickly hurries in to change.

“I feel bad,” says Thomas quietly.

“Don’t,” replies James firmly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Aaron returns a few minutes later with his wet clothes screwed up in one hand, considerably subdued.

James places one hand on his back. “Let’s go, hmm? And when we get to the motel we can sit and cuddle,” he says gently.

Aaron sniffles. “Can I have Theo?”

“Sure,” says Thomas. “I’ll get him out of the trunk.”

“Her,” corrects Aaron. “Theo is a  _girl_.”

Thomas retrieves the teddy bear for his son as well as a blanket, and once Aaron’s belted in he drapes the blanket over him.

Not even half an hour into the rest of the drive, James is glad to see that the twelve-year-old is fast asleep, a content smile on his face.


End file.
